


abeyance

by chidorinnn



Series: peregrinate [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Dragon Age II - Act 1, Dragon Age II Quest - The Deep Roads Expedition, F/M, Varric Tethras waxes poetic about Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 10:37:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17140232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chidorinnn/pseuds/chidorinnn
Summary: Despite what people will tell him for years to come, the anger that Varric hasn't reserved for Bartrand is directed singularly to himself. He should have seen this coming; heknowswhat Bartrand is like, when the stakes are high enough. Orzammar's blood runs thick in them both, barely diluted by the years they've spent on the surface.The only reason Hawke is here at all is because Varric had pushed so hard for her to come – and it's not like their success was ever a guarantee, but he should've still been able to give her more than this.





	abeyance

In the official record, Varric is only righteously angry. The anger should be directed solely at Bartrand, because it's his fault that they're in this mess in the first place.

But despite what people will tell him for years to come, the anger that Varric hasn't reserved for Bartrand is directed singularly to himself. He should have seen this coming; he  _knows_ what Bartrand is like, when the stakes are high enough. Orzammar's blood runs thick in them both, barely diluted by the years they've spent on the surface.

"Varric." A hand lands on his shoulder. "Varric." Hawke shakes him just enough to snap him out of whatever dark, dingy places in his mind that Bartrand has pushed him into.

Right. She's still here. The only reason she's here at all is because Varric had pushed so hard for her to come – and it's not like their success was ever a guarantee, but he should've still been able to give her more than this.

He looks to Carver, pale-faced and leaning tiredly against the wall with his eyes closed and a pinch to his brow. He looks to Anders, sitting cross-legged on the ground with his Grey Warden maps laid before him.

"We're still here, Varric." Hawke's voice is quiet, but it echoes through the thaig in a way that sends a shiver down his spine. "We haven't lost yet."

Anders lifts his head, and though he doesn't smile, there's triumph in his eyes. "We have options," he says. He waves his arm to beckon them closer, and then presses down on a mess of brownish ink towards the left side of the map. "If we go through here," he drags his finger to the right, "there are two paths we could take. One," he drags his finger upward, "should spit us out right by the Wounded Coast. The last leg of it is uncharted, though, and the part that  _is_ charted is... well, I won't lie to you. It's long... perhaps longer than the path we took to get here.

Hawke presses down on Varric's shoulder, her fingers curling ever so slightly. It's a comfortable weight, grounding him in a way that he can't imagine a life underground ever doing. "What's the other option?" she asks.

"Over here," says Anders as he drags his finger downward, diagonally to the right, "is where the Wardens make their camp. This I can confirm with absolute certainty."

"What good will that do?" Carver half-moans into the wall. He looks miserable here, and Varric is reminded abruptly of Hawke's mother – her face stricken as she'd begged her to leave Carver behind – and that's yet another person he's let down with his own stupidity.

"If anyone knows a way out of here, it's the Wardens," says Anders. "Worst case scenario, they'll ask you to join them. Best case, we'll be out in due time, and maybe they'll even share their provisions with us."

"See?" says Hawke, smiling down at Varric. Her fingers curl comfortingly around his shoulder, and he wonders, absurdly, why it feels so  _warm_ when she's told him more than once that she can't do fire magic. "We'll be fine.

"We'll be out before you know it," says Anders, grinning. "So... Wardens?"

"Wardens," Hawke agrees. "Is that all right with you, Carver?"

"Sure," Carver says in what could either be a pained or a dry tone, but Varric's not entirely sure. The way he's leaning into the wall, it looks like he's trying to melt into it altogether. "That sounds  _perfect_." 

She smiles at Varric again, and it's like he never left the surface. "Ready, Varric?"

He can't help but smile, as he reaches up to rest his hand on top of hers. Her hand is rough, dirt crusted under her fingernails. Her face is drawn and pale with exhaustion, shadows collecting under her eyes, and her hair falls in stringy, greasy, tangled clumps from weeks of not tending to it – but her eyes are clear and bright.

She's never looked more beautiful.

Varric can be optimistic, too. He'd like to think that he can do this for her. "Oh, what the hell?"


End file.
